


Let's Play a Love Game

by patchwork_panda



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Flirting, Crack Fic, James and Shiro are both fighting over Keith, James is a troll, Jealous Shiro, Love Triangle, M/M, Multi, Post Season 7, Shiro has zero self-awareness, background allurance, between season 7 and 8, everyone is a disaster gay, keith is oblivious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-04 12:14:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15841095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchwork_panda/pseuds/patchwork_panda
Summary: "a fanfic where James starts overtly flirting with Keith in front of Shiro, to make Shiro jealous and realize that if he doesn’t make a move soon someone else will, because that boy is FINE."The above quote is from SheithAndBlade's tumblr. They came up with the original idea.Started as "Part 0"-- a prequel miniature fic for "Jealous"As of 9/12/18, I'm turning this James/Keith/Shiro love triangle thing into a short comedy series, where Shiro and James are competing with each other for Keith's time and attention and Keith is utterly oblivious to the happenings around him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SheithAndBlade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheithAndBlade/gifts).



> In my defense, I have no idea how people flirt or how flirting works. You have been warned.

The man was hopeless, James thought, the smirk on his face growing wider with each passing second. 

Look at him, standing there all googly-eyed and love-lorn, pining after a guy who was at some point just a cadet with a discipline problem and seven years his junior to boot. He wasn’t even paying attention to the the fact that the coffee he was continuing to pour into his mug had begun to overflow and was now spreading out across the floor in a scalding hot caffeinated lake. So caught up was Shiro in staring longingly at Keith from across the room that he was even ignoring the second degree burns forming on his flesh-and-blood hand. If James Griffin had to hear one more wistful sigh come out of that man’s mouth, he would be compelled by military protocol to go over there and dump his own coffee over the man’s head just to snap him out of it.

And to think, it was only 0600 hours. And a Tuesday. 

James thoughtfully took a sip from his own mug, wondering seriously if anyone else besides him had ever felt this odd mixture of annoyance and amusement whenever they saw Shiro at a time when Keith was in the room. Really, it was kind of pathetic. He was pretty sure Leifsdottir was in earshot that day when Shiro mysteriously tripped over nothing and fell very noisily into that pile of scrap metal at the MFE hangar. Knowing how accurate her mathematical calculations were, he would say there was a 200% chance she understood the reason for Shiro’s sudden loss of coordination was Keith deciding to take off his Garrison jacket so he could fan himself vigorously. As James recalled, Keith had been wearing a very tight tank top.

He slowly put his mug down as Keith himself, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning widely, passed by his table. As much as it bothered him to see his former hero reduced to a slack-jawed pile of nerves at the sight of that mullet, he couldn’t say he didn’t understand where Shiro was coming from. 

Keith had changed. And much as he hated to admit it, the changes were definitely for the better. For one, Keith had grown physically. He used to be a little on the shorter, skinnier side but now, he was just as tall as James was and definitely just as brawny. He may not have developed into a slice of prime beef the way Shiro had but he could definitely be described as statuesque. More importantly, Keith had matured significantly as far as his mental and emotional state was concerned. Gone was the emo kid who lashed out violently whenever someone touched on a sore spot. He’d shaken James’ hand like an equal and treated his fellow cadet with respect.

James’ eyes traveled up and down the man’s form. 

Not to mention, Keith did always have a cute butt.

There was a sound of glass shattering and everyone looked up at the counter, where Shiro had attempted to set down the coffeepot and succeeded in nearly putting it through the counter. He had an ill-tempered look in his dark eyes and his harsh gaze was directed at Griffin. Who admittedly had been staring at Keith’s butt earlier while taking a long, slow sip of his coffee.

Oh. Ohhh.

His smirk grew and he quickly hid his face by diving into his plate of scrambled eggs.

Someone was jealous.

As soon as Shiro had gone back to his own seat and resumed staring pitifully at Keith (made all the more pitiful by the fact that he was only a few yards away), who was now getting in line for breakfast with the remaining stragglers in the mess hall, he made a decision. 

He stood.

“Hey, Keith!”

Keith turned and fixed him with a confused look, which was completely understandable because James Griffin had never been the kind of guy to literally get up and flag someone down.

“…It’s Josh, right?” Keith asked, slapping a convincing, if sleepy, smile on his face as James approached. He had to suppress a groan of frustration. Keith never was good with names. It’s a good thing he’s cute.

“James, actually. James Griffin.”

He stopped just short of an overly friendly distance and chanced a glance over Keith’s shoulder at Shiro. The man looked somewhere between wary and mortified. Good.

“Whatcha got there?” he asked, pointing at Keith’s tray. Keith didn’t look entertained.

“Uhh… Eggs. Fruit. Yogurt?”

James actually winced. Why did Keith word his responses like he was on a quiz show? Good God, he was just as hopeless as Shiro, albeit in a completely different way. Really good thing he was cute. Granted, James didn’t have a ton of practice in the subtle art of flirting but for this beautiful dum-dum, he’d try anything at least once.

“Hmm, that’s nice. Looks pretty fresh, doesn’t it? Come to think of it, you’re looking pretty fresh yourself this morning. Did you do something new with your hair?”

Keith’s facial expression answered for him. It looked like something along the lines of “you’ve gotta be kidding me, right?” The bags under his eyes practically spoke for themselves.

James laughed. Awkwardly.

“I kid, I kid. Your hair looks great. It always did.”

Now that was an outright lie and they both knew it. Keith’s mullet was number two on a list of the many things he and the other cadets hated about the kid when they were all still in grade school, right after his bad attitude. Keith didn’t respond. Sensing his plan about to go awry, James changed his approach.

“Alright, you got me. I’m gonna be real with you for a second, Keith,” James said seriously. “I don’t think I was being fair to you before. The truth is, you and I have a lot in common.”

“We… do?” Keith was starting to look uncomfortable. If James hadn’t just been thinking about kissing him under the shadow of the Atlas on a balmy afternoon in the desert, he’d feel insulted at the look on his fellow cadet’s face right now.

“Yeah, we do. We’re both young, good-looking, talented pilots–- _very_ talented if I do say so myself–we both graduated from the same middle school AND we both dreamed of traveling into space. I mean, c’mon, we both admired Shiro growing up, didn’t we?”

He gave Keith’s shoulder a playful nudge.

Keith’s cheeks colored and for a moment, James completely forgot where he was going with this. Was Keith blushing because of what he said or was it because he mentioned Shiro? He snuck another look over Keith’s nicely sculpted shoulder and was rewarded with the sight of Shiro looking more than slightly irritated. His mouth had flattened into a thin line.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Keith mumbled shyly and James could literally feel his heart skip a beat. 

Damn, that boy was cute.

“See?” James asked, breathing a sigh of relief. He casually draped an arm over Keith’s shoulder. “We are alike. I mean, you even got the same things for breakfast as I did.”

And without warning, he reached over, picked up the fork on Keith’s plate and ate one of Keith’s strawberries.

“Mm.” 

He licked his lips slowly, not caring who else was watching. Right now, he only needed two particular pairs of eyes on him and the owner of the violet set was looking pretty entranced right about now. 

“Nice and sweet.”

Perfect. Keith’s face was about as red as the strawberry James had just eaten and Shiro was looking positively murderous.

“C’mon,” James whispered, inclining his head over to his table. “There’s a free seat at my table.”

As he started guiding the beautifully compliant Keith over to his own table, his arm still slung over his fellow’s shoulder, James made sure to turn around and give Shiro a most professional salute.

His grin was nothing short of wolfish.

_“Sir.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro just cannot catch a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! If you have any ideas for fun things you'd like to see in this short series, leave a message below in the comments or message me @patchwork-panda on Tumblr. Thanks in advance!

James Griffin.

Shiro frowned, tapping an artificial finger against the fluffy white towel he’d slung around his shoulders as he considered the name plate on the locker before him.

He didn’t know much about James Griffin, except that he was roughly about Keith’s age, a talented MFE fighter pilot, and that his grin irritated Shiro in a way that he didn’t quite understand.

He tapped his finger against the towel again. 

There was something about his expression: self-assured, confident— _obnoxiously cocky_ was what he wanted to say but that was just a touch unfair wasn’t it? James had every right to be that self-satisfied. He had, after all, personally taken down a large chunk of Sendak’s forces in that last battle and he’d always been the acting leader of his own small team. In fact, if Shiro were to be more objective in his assessment of the young man, he would be forced to admit that James’ skills as a pilot rivaled those of the Paladins themselves.

A drop of water slid down his forehead and gathered at the crease forming between his brows.

What James Griffin _didn’t_ have the right to be was the kind of guy who could approach Keith the way he did in the mess hall this morning.

 _But Keith wasn’t exactly unreceptive to James’ attention_ a small voice in the back of his head reminded him. _In fact, he seemed to_ like _the attention, if you ask me._

“No one asked you,” Shiro snapped.

He winced as the harshness of his own voice echoed around the empty chamber of the locker room and when the sound faded at last, he heaved a small sigh of relief, thankful that he was the only one using the shower at this time of night. His day had been awful, so awful in fact, that he was seriously considering visiting the Black Lion in its new hangar and begging it to take him back to the infinite void if only so he couldn’t embarrass himself again. 

It had all started in the morning. He had a distant memory of burning himself when he tried to pour out a cup of coffee for Keith and a more recent one of smashing that very same coffeepot by accident when he’d glanced around the room and caught James unabashedly ogling Keith’s assets (the young Paladin had been reaching very far forward for the last cup of yogurt). Shiro chalked it up to a malfunction of his new arm (he had to admit, even though he’d managed to fight off Sendak with it, he still wasn’t that used to it yet) and made a mental note to have Commander Holt or maybe even Allura have a look at it later. He turned his back for a brief second and in that moment, James had gotten up, eaten something off of Keith’s plate in a manner that was so flirtatious it ought to be illegal, and whispered something dirty into Keith’s ears. Even from where he sat, Shiro could see that Keith was red enough to match his old Lion. James had then hooked his arm around Keith’s shoulders and steered him back to his own table, where they spent the rest of breakfast looking _very_ cozy together.

Shiro should’ve just forgotten about it, ignored the stomachache tearing at his gut and reasoned the whole thing out as James wanting to mend his relationship with Keith now that they were all allies in a massive intergalactic war. But then James had turned to Shiro with the _cheekiest_ smile.

_“Sir.”_

Shiro’s frown deepened into a full scowl.

That “Sir” haunted him for the rest of the morning. He heard it when he caught a glimpse of the young pilot running to his station in the hangar during exercises. He heard it again, loud and clear, when James had looked up and met his gaze, one delicately arched eyebrow the only clue that he might’ve noticed Shiro watching him from the Atlas’ observation deck. And now, as Shiro stood in front of James’ locker, it was as if James himself were here, saluting him with that aggravating smirk and whispering the word in his ear.

_“Sir.”_

Clearly, he still needed to adjust to being in this clone body because the urge to punch a hole through this locker was near overwhelming. Something about aggression and Galra engineering, perhaps.  
He managed to wrench himself away from the locker, leaving it undamaged and stalked out of the shower rooms, trying not to stew over the details.

He should be happy for Keith, happy that someone like James, a stickler for rules and order who had never seen eye-to-eye with Keith, had welcomed him back with open arms and even seemed to be taking an interest in him. He should be happy that Keith had reciprocated so readily, a sure sign that the alliance with Earth in the fight against the remaining Galra had truly been cemented. 

But instead of taking comfort in these facts, he was instead filled with a strong sense of distaste.

Something about James being the one who had provoked Keith into a fight all those years ago and now acting overly friendly with him now that he had returned several years older and better-looking just didn’t sit well with Shiro. He sighed. That sounded about right; he was probably just being overprotective. After all, Keith had been something like family for the longest time and it was only natural that he’d want to vet any of Keith’s potential suitors before they got too close to the man. Keith was a very private, emotional individual and if he let down his guard around the wrong person, the damage might be irreparable. And Shiro would sooner shoot himself out the airlock before he let that happen.

* * *

“Shiro!” 

He was stopped from taking his usual seat at the far end of the mess hall by Coran and Allura, who had materialized out of nowhere just in time to block his view of the entire room. They did not look happy.

“Oh, uh, hey guys. Everything okay?”

“Everything is most certainly _not_ okay,” Allura declared, jabbing an accusatory finger into Shiro’s chest. “Just look at you! You’re exhausted. You have bags the size of Klaanmu’rl eggs under your eyes and you even poured yourself _two_ cups of coffee this morning.”

“Oh, they’re not both for me,” Shiro chuckled. “I thought I’d try to have breakfast with Keith since I haven’t really seen much of him these last couple of days. Speaking of which, have you seen—”

“Nonsense! You’re coming with us to the medical bay immediately!” Coran huffed, “We heard your arm malfunctioned yesterday morning to the point where you burned yourself and destroyed a piece of equipment--”

“The coffeepot? Coran--” Shiro stammered but Coran was on a roll.

“--and in spite of your injuries, you just carried on with your duties like normal, ignoring the severity of your burns for the rest of the day and even hitting _the training room_ late at night long after lights-out! Do you know how dangerous it is to train alone with a malfunctioning robotic arm?! Why, my great-uncle--”

_“Coran.”_

“What he means to say,” Allura sighed, placing a calming hand on Coran’s shoulder as the man looked on the verge of tears, “is that a large number of people saw that you’d gotten injured several times within the last week and yet not a single medic claims to have seen you in the medical bay at all. We’re just worried about you and we want to know if there’s anything we can do to help. Might we take a look at that arm of yours this morning?”

“Sure, but can it wait until after breakfast?” Shiro asked, desperately scanning the room for a certain mullet.

“Not after what happened yesterday,” Allura said crisply.

At once, she snatched one of the mugs from Shiro and pushed it at the nearest cadet who happened to be walking by. “Give that to Keith, will you? I believe he’s a friend of yours?”

“You got it, Princess,” the cadet answered and Shiro’s eyes widened in horror when he saw who it was: a very fresh-faced James Griffin, his brown hair neatly combed, collared uniform starched to a crisp, his boots polished to a shine. His smile was professional enough but something about his tone made Shiro want to court-martial him then and there.

“I’ll make sure Keith gets this. We’re very good friends after all.”

He sent them off with an extremely cheerful wave as Allura and Coran grabbed his prosthetic arm and frog-marched Shiro from the room. He could only watch helplessly as the doors slid closed behind him and he was dragged away.

* * *

“I don’t get it, it was working fine up until yesterday,” Commander Holt puzzled aloud, his voice coming through loud and clear even through the crackling intercom. “What brought this on again?”

“Shiro spilled some coffee onto the circuits yesterday morning. Would that have done it?”

“No, no. This was designed to be waterproof. In any case, he managed to fight off an alien warlord with it so some coffee wouldn’t have done a thing to it. Unless...”

Shiro sighed and brought his one remaining hand up to his temples in an attempt to stave off the oncoming headache as a stream of technical jargon echoed around the walls of his nearly empty room. 

Judging by the clock on the wall, he had been lying here for several hours while Commander Holt’s team continued to run diagnostics on the arm, and try as he might, he could not stop thinking about the fact that Keith had probably spent his entire morning in James’ company while he was stuck here because of some random glitching circuitry. 

Before their return to Earth, any mention of Shiro being unwell in any way would result in Keith bursting into whichever facility Shiro was being housed in, demanding to be let in so he could see how the man was doing with his own two eyes. This morning, however, Keith hadn’t popped in even once, not even just to poke his head in the door and say hi. It sounded like he was so busy training with the MFE pilots that he couldn’t even take five minutes out of his day to see how his old friend was doing when he’d previously promised Shiro, “As many times as it takes.”

He tried to keep the frustration out of his voice as he called out, “You guys almost got it?”

“Yeah,” Commander Holt sighed. “I guess so. Well, looks like we can’t find anything wrong with the arm so I guess we should just put it back together and let you get back to your day--”

“Actually, I have a question,” Allura interrupted. “Shiro, the circuitry for your new arm is connected directly to your brain, to facilitate your movements. I was wondering, what exactly were you thinking about when you had your little... accident?”

_Certainly not telling James Griffin to avert his gaze, that was for sure._

He shrugged.

“Nothing, really.”

Even though he wasn’t looking directly at the window, he could feel Allura judging him with those piercing blue eyes from the other side of the wall. His only clue to her real thoughts was a flat, “Hmm...” filling the space in his room like a dense fog.

Luckily, he didn’t have long to dwell on the implications because there was a sound like a door being blown open and a familiar, harsh voice suddenly burst through on the intercom.

“What happened to Shiro?”

“Keith!” he exclaimed, voice cracking with surprise and relief. He was suddenly very conscious of the fact that he was lying on a cot in a pair of glorified medical pajamas. “I thought you had training this morning--”

“That’s not important. Shiro, are you okay?!” Keith demanded.

His dark violet eyes were boring into Shiro’s, his long fingers nearly crushing the microphone in his grip and it looked like he’d just about shoved everybody else aside to get to it, judging by the wide berth the others were giving him. He was still in his red Paladin armor and the bangs that weren’t stuck to his forehead were dripping with sweat; he was out of breath and it looked like he’d run all the way here from the other side of the complex. 

At once, the wave of relief coursing through him turned to ice in his veins and he suddenly felt guilty. Keith was really worried about him.

“Keith, I’m fine, they’re just running some tests--”

“Tests? Is there something wrong with him?” he asked, whirling on Commander Holt and the others. There was a brief moment of silence as someone switched off the mic and Shiro watched the short-lived commotion settle into a semblance of order. When the dust had settled, the mic had been switched back on and he heard Keith, head bowed, mumble something along the lines of, “Can I go in to see him?”

“I don’t think so, but if you could just wait for us to put his arm back together, he’ll be able to join us outside in a few minutes--”

Keith didn’t wait for Commander Holt to finish, he just leaned in towards the observation window until his forehead was practically smushed up against the glass and called out, “Shiro, you’re gonna be alright. I’ll be right here when you get out, okay? Right here.”

He then shoved the mic at a nearby medic and took up a position along the far wall, arms crossed, mouth set in a firm line, eyes focused so intensely on the staff as they started picking up the pieces of Shiro’s prosthetic and realigning the parts that Shiro could see one person’s hands shaking from his position on the cot.

He didn’t realize he was smiling until a tiny movement caught the corner of his eye. It was Allura and the corner of her lip had quirked upward in a knowing, yet benevolent smile. The intercom crackled merrily.

“Hmm...”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shots are fired. Shiro and James have a little talk outside while Keith remains blissfully oblivious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was way, way too much fun to write. Snarky back and forth dialogue ftw.

James was feeling pretty great this morning. He had good reason to. Yesterday had gone spectacularly well, even by his high standards. He’d started his morning by watching Shiro literally being dragged off to the infirmary by his two Altean companions, who had made _such_ a scene in the mess hall, he doubted Shiro would be back any time soon. To make the whole thing even better, Princess Allura had all but instructed him to keep Keith company for the rest of the meal period, ripping the extra mug of coffee out of Shiro’s hands and placing it squarely in James’. He’d bet his micropulse boosters that the mug had been meant for Keith and he had made _sure_ it reached its intended recipient. 

In fact, he’d spent the whole morning around the Black Paladin, chatting him up over breakfast again, spending some quality time with him at the MFE hanger between exercises—he even witnessed James pulling off a particularly impressive maneuver during the flight drills that morning. It was very unfortunate that he’d dashed off in the middle of the whole thing, right when it was getting good too, but no matter... Keith was opening up to him emotionally and the groundwork had been laid. If things kept going this smoothly, it wouldn’t be long before they could take things a step further...

As he approached the mess hall, he could hardly keep the smug grin off his face. Unfortunately, when the doors opened, the grin was wiped clean off his face. Keith was already here, at least fifteen minutes before his usual time (James checked his watch and frowned) and he was already with Shiro.

“Are you sure you don’t want more eggs?”

“Keith, I’m fine,” Shiro laughed, grabbing Keith’s jacket sleeve and pulling him back down into his seat. “I told you, you don’t need to do this. Commander Holt said there was nothing wrong with my arm or the rest of me for that matter.”

“Yeah but you really should eat more than that,” Keith insisted, grabbing Shiro’s plate and trying to get up again, only stopping when Shiro’s robotic arm came to a rest on his shoulder and gently pushed him down yet again. James’ nose wrinkled in distaste. As cool as that technology was, James knew his hand would look much better on Keith’s shoulder than Shiro’s floating one. For one, _his_ hand would be on the opposite shoulder, so that he could drape his whole arm around Keith’s body, really _feel_ that pleasant warmth he gave off, the minute movements of those tight muscles... His thoughts were stopped from wandering any further as a pair of steely gray eyes slowly trained themselves on him. So James changed his frown into something more agreeable and approached.

“I heard you weren’t feeling too well yesterday, Captain,” James observed, stopping casually at their table. He paused to smile pleasantly at Keith before turning his attention to Shiro, his expression becoming just a little bit colder as he faced the man. “You’re looking pretty spry this morning, though. Fully recovered, I take it?”

He felt a thin flare of satisfaction as Shiro’s smile grew imperceptibly tight.

“Much better. Thanks for asking, Griffin,” he responded through clenched teeth as James took a seat beside Keith and leaned in close, his chin propped up on his hand as he addressed his table-mate.

“So, Keith. Looks like we’ve got more training exercises today. Just Paladins and MFE pilots, it seems.” He flashed Shiro a brief grin. “I’m sorry you had to run off yesterday but I’m sure we’ll get where we need to by the end of today.”

“Yeah,” Keith readily agreed, “I’m looking forward to it. Sorry about leaving before, it’s just when I heard Shiro was in the medical bay, I had to go see him. You understand.”

Now it was Shiro’s turn to shoot James a small, satisfied smirk. Feigning ignorance, James continued chatting with Keith about piloting, updating him on the rest of the afternoon that he’d missed, making sure to include a few dramatic details here and there all the while shooting Shiro tiny glances as if to ask why he was still there, in between giving Keith some _very_ appreciative looks. Judging by the frigid cast that had come over Shiro’s face, he was certain the only thing standing between him and a slow, painful death was the innumerable number of witnesses around them at the peak of breakfast hour. Innumerable witnesses that included Keith, of course. Speaking of which...

“Keith, you’ve got some yogurt on your face,” Shiro mumbled, in a bald-faced attempt to regain the Paladin’s attention.

Keith blinked. Next to him, Shiro colored slightly, and without meaning to, he exchanged a quick glance with James.

 _That was really cute,_ his eyes seemed to say and for a split second, he lowered his guard. Seizing his chance, James pounced.

“Here, let me get that for you,” he offered pleasantly.

In one deft motion, he flicked his thumb across the corner of Keith’s mouth, making sure to drag the pad of his finger across Keith’s lower lip as he brushed the stain away. Bringing his hand back, he slowly licked his finger clean, maintaining such intense eye contact with Keith that he could barely see the affronted look on Shiro’s face even though he was sitting only a few feet away. James’ smile was equal parts seductive and victorious.

“Good stuff.”

Both his table mates were equally red, Keith looking somewhat flustered but not disagreeably so (his eyes were locked on James’ mouth and he seemed to be getting redder with each passing second) while Shiro was making a strange noise, like something was caught in his throat. Considering his gambit a success, James rose to his feet.

“You know, I think I should get something to eat myself. Keep my seat warm for me, will ya?” He shot Keith a subtle wink and departed. He managed to make it as far as the coffee cups before he heard the clattering of a chair being pushed back abruptly and a low, intense voice.

“Excuse me, Keith.”

Within moments, James could hear heavy footsteps approaching him very quickly from the end of the line. He turned and gave his pursuant a mock-concerned glance.

“Captain. Something wrong?”

Shiro looked furious. From the outside, his face appeared professional and composed but the look in his eyes suggested he was anything _but_ on the inside. If James hadn’t already written the man off as a non-threat, he would’ve wondered if this is what Sendak saw in his final moments. But this was good. Something about Shiro’s rage only made him want to aggravate the man further and he relished future opportunities to hit on Keith so openly. Keith seemed to like it, after all. Just what was he thinking of when he was staring at James’ mouth like that? Hopefully exactly what James wanted him to be thinking of. He licked his lips, wondering if Keith was watching this little interaction as closely as James hoped he was.

“Can I speak to you in private, Griffin?” Shiro inquired, his voice a low growl.

“Sure thing but would you mind if I got myself some breakfast first? I’m kinda hungry and I could use a little more than just a _snack._ ” 

He emphasized the word by shooting Keith a meaningful glance, which the dark-haired man must’ve caught, given how he ducked his head and pretended not to see. James could see how red Keith’s ears were even from here and so could Shiro, who might have been angry before but now looked like he was calculating how much time he would need to thoroughly crush James’ windpipe.

“ _Now, Cadet._ ”

James shrugged, handing off his tray to a flustered engineer behind him and followed Shiro out of the mess hall, his hands tucked casually into his pockets as he played along. As soon as they were in the hallway, Shiro rounded on him.

“ _What_ are you doing?”

“Repairing my relationship with Keith,” James answered offhandedly, studying his nails. “You know, we didn’t get off to a great start at the Academy but that was honestly my own fault. I was a poor judge of character and I want to remedy that.”

“Is that why you came over this morning and behaved the way you did?”

James raised a single eyebrow.

“This morning?”

“Yes, this morning. _And_ the morning before yesterday. That was inappropriate, Cadet.”

Shiro looked beyond irritated that James didn’t appear to be getting it and underneath that, the young pilot could detect the faintest glimmer of panic. As if Shiro was questioning himself and his own sanity, coming to the realization that he had basically dragged James off for an interrogation out of a room full of eyewitnesses who would be sure to report this if James was mysteriously found missing during the next meal period.

“Yesterday, huh?” James mused, purposefully hearing him wrong. “As I recall, Princess Allura tasked me with taking care of Keith yesterday, while you were laid up in the medical bay-- _and_ \--”

He finally looked up and fixed Shiro with an inquisitive, yet innocent, glance. 

“--and I honestly don’t recall doing anything wrong. Can I ask what I was doing that was so inappropriate?”

Shiro’s face crumpled.

“Y-you don’t?” he stammered.

“Not at all,” James answered. He took a step forward as Shiro took one back. “Ohhh, are you referring to when I ate his food? Yeah, that was rude of me. I should’ve apologized for that but you know, as far as I recall, _Captain_ , there aren’t any rules against sharing meals in the cafeteria. I mean if there were, you’d be in trouble as well.”

He took another step forward.

“After all, there are no rules against fellow cadets socializing with each other but if a cadet and a ranked officer _and former instructor_ were to get a little too friendly?”  
His breath came out through his teeth with a tiny hiss and he twisted his lips into a wince.

“I think there _are_ rules against that kind of behavior. Let’s see... Section Four, Paragraph three-dash-five--”

“I know the rules just as well as you do,” Shiro said coldly, interrupting him. He crossed his arms and stood his ground although James could see he was visibly shaken.

However, thanks to their difference in height, from James’ point of view, it was like Shiro was looking down his scarred nose on the younger man. He bristled but recovered instantaneously. Such was the mettle of the leader of the MFE pilots and as he drew himself up to his full height, he could tell even Shiro couldn’t help but look slightly impressed. 

“Do you?” James asked coolly. “I think there’s something to be said about Keith hanging around with other pilots _his own age_ , don’t you?”

His gaze skimmed over the white of Shiro’s hair and the man’s artificial hand twitched a little, as if to make a motion to cover it up. 

“And _I_ think,” Shiro mused, an unnerving yellowish glint in his eye, “there’s nothing wrong with Keith spending some time with a man with more experience—as a pilot, that is.”

James’ eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Right. Because I’m sure piloting is all you’ve got in mind when you see him,” he sneered.

It took a moment for his words to register. James watched as Shiro’s mouth opened, then closed as he stood there in the middle of the hallway, his robotic hand rising up and half forming itself into an accusatory gesture directed at the young pilot. He watched the gears slowly turn in the man’s head and grind to an abrupt halt, signaled by his ears flushing a deep scarlet; James was almost surprised that he couldn’t actually see the steam coming out of Shiro’s ears. Then, all at once, the blood drained out of his face and he blanched until he was as deathly pale as his hair. James had to fight the urge to roll his eyes, the man was so obvious. 

“I’m just looking out for him,” Shiro quietly declared at last.

James let out a disappointed huff. That’s it? _Really?_

“Right. Well, rest assured I wouldn’t do a thing to hurt him,” he said, crossing his arms. “Are we done here? _Sir?_ ”

“Yeah. Yeah, we are. As you were.”

As he walked back to the breakfast line, James made a mental note to add an amendment to his promise. He wouldn’t hurt Keith... unless Keith _asked him to._ He waved cheerfully at the blessedly oblivious Keith as the dark-haired man passed by the line on his way out to apologize politely for leaving early.

“Hey, no worries, man. I’ll see you out there, okay?”

“Yeah, see you.”

And as Keith ran out, James suddenly noticed that Shiro had not followed; in fact, the man was nowhere to be found. Realizing that there was nobody there to stop him staring at Keith’s behind as he exited the room, he took full advantage to mentally undress the Paladin with his eyes before grabbing what little remained of this morning’s rations and retaking his old seat. Shiro did not rejoin him.

James sighed and crunched into his slightly burnt piece of toast.

Really? If this was the best Captain Shirogane could do, then Keith was all but his already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got an idea for the fic? Comment below or send me a message at my tumblr page (patchwork-panda). ^ ^


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait. This one turned out kind of long but I couldn't find a good place to cut it. I hope you find it entertaining.

“Shiro?”

It had been hours but he kept hearing James’ words over and over again. The reports on the blue holographic screen before him were blurring into each other, each more boring than the last. He knew he had to put together some kind of simulation exercise by the next morning but he just couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t stop thinking about what James Griffin had said to him in the hallway, his gaze scornful and his words dripping with unmistakable sarcasm. He couldn’t possibly be suggesting what Shiro thought he was suggesting... could he?

“Earth to Shiro.”

What did James think was going through Shiro’s mind when he looked at Keith? Surely not the same thing Shiro was suspecting James of doing when _he_ looked at Keith, the way he let his eyes trail over the Paladin’s backside, looking him up and down like he was a piece of meat.

_Oh, but you’ve looked at him like this too, “Captain.” You still remember the first time you saw him again after he’d journeyed to the Quantum Abyss. Remember how difficult it was to speak to him when you saw his changed face? Or how about the moment he stepped out of his pod for the first time and you saw how he’d grown—a few inches taller, a few inches... fuller?_

Keith had always been on the slimmer side but the increased muscle mass did look pretty great on him if he was going to be honest with himself. He was half-thinking about thanking Krolia then and there and maybe asking for the exercise regimen but he didn’t want to make the interaction more awkward than it had already become.

“Shiro, come in!! The Atlas has taken a direct hit and won’t be airborne much longer!! What should we do?!”

He jerked up in his chair with a shout but he had been sitting for so long that his legs had gone numb and he tumbled sideways onto the cold hard floor with a graceless crash. Squatting down to meet him was a familiar Altean, one who was staring at him with a set of ethereal deep blue eyes. Judgmental eyes.

“Allura. How long have you been standing there?”

“Nearly ten Doboshes.”

She sighed.

“I don’t like to joke like that but Lance was right, sometimes it really is the best way to, as he says, ‘snap someone out of it.’ What’s gotten into you now? You seemed better this morning but ever since we found you standing in the hallway, it’s like you’ve been in a daze. Are you sure you don’t want us to take another look at your arm?”

“No thanks, Allura. My arm is just fine.”

And to demonstrate, he made a show of pretending to flex with the floating appendage, the light blue glow of his prosthetic lighting up one side of her face as she laughed appreciatively. It occurred to him that Keith might be outside, as it was almost time for them to pack up for the day and he switched to flexing with his real arm as well. Allura’s gaze was suddenly shrewd. She smiled.

“And how about your head? How’s that feeling?”

“My head?” 

Shiro was confused. He thoughtfully rubbed his scalp where it hit the floor. A small lump was forming underneath the skin and it felt tender when he applied pressure. Hopefully, it wouldn’t make the shape of his head look odd; his haircut wasn’t exactly the most forgiving. 

“It’s just a bruise. No big deal.”

“I wasn’t talking about the bruise.”

Shiro dropped his hand.

“Then what are you talking about?”

Allura suddenly stood and peered out the window, staring at a fixed point somewhere in the distance over his head.

“Oh, it’s Keith! I think he’s looking for you.”

Shiro scrambled to his feet and nearly tripped as he flung himself at the windows. Haphazardly smoothing out the wrinkles in his uniform, he searched the teeming grounds below for a familiar mullet. But the Lions were nowhere in sight. Not even the MFE fighter jets had come roaring down the tarmac yet and he quickly realized with a blush of shame that if the fighters _had_ come in, there was no way he wouldn’t have been told ahead of time via the new communications system that they were supposed to be testing.

“ _Someone’s_ eagerly awaiting the Black Paladin’s return.”

When Shiro made a move to check in on the location of James Griffin’s MFE fighter, Allura let out a small chuckle.

“I was talking about you, Shiro.”

Somehow she sounded a lot like James when she said that. He tried not to cringe.

“Oh, am I?” he asked hesitantly, shooting a quick glance behind him at the princess, who had remained standing by his console, her disposition as poised and elegant as usual. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with a knowing gleam as she regarded him fondly.

“Things have a funny way of changing, don’t they? I still remember when I first met all of you. Shiro, you were so calm and composed. A born leader, I thought, someone whose men would follow without question, a choice candidate for the Paladin of the Black Lion. And now, look at you. The Captain of the Atlas, Earth’s finest battleship and here you are, stuttering and stumbling about like a man half your age all because of your newfound attraction to your successor.”

Shiro’s brain short-circuited. The floor was falling away from him.

“Attraction?” he croaked. 

His voice was so hoarse that he doubted Allura could hear him. He watched as she mumbled something to herself about how, given Keith’s tremendous growth over the past year, it made complete sense but she was failing to comprehend how Shiro could hardly bring himself to talk, much less actually function, around Keith when Lance would do nothing but jabber away aimlessly whenever a pretty girl entered the room.

“Although, it would be foolish to assume all humans have the exact same reaction when it comes to love,” she muttered under her breath when Shiro found his voice at last.

“That can’t be right,” Shiro stammered. “I’ve felt attraction before. I’ve dated, I had a boyfriend before I left. This—this isn’t like before—”

When Allura looked at him doubtfully, he ran a hand through his hair and tried to explain. But he couldn’t. How could he?

Not all of his memories were his. When his conscious was transferred from the Black Lion into the clone, something strange had happened. The memories had _merged_ in a way that nobody could have foreseen or understood. Nobody, except maybe Slav, but Shiro already had enough of a headache to deal with _without_ thinking of that paranoid old codger. Before, Slav had irritated him to no end but now, Shiro might actually be happy to see him again if only to have someone around to understand and explain to Allura what it felt like to have multiple memories of the same events. He had thought the merger had gone well enough at first; the memories from the clone had gradually seeped into his own mind and began to overlap with the memories he held from the time he’d spent in infinite void of the Black Lion. In a way, it was very similar to the way one’s brain got used to taking in input from only one eye when an eye patch was applied to the other. However, as time passed, he began to notice something strange.

His memories from the void were hardly fuzzy. The universe within the Lion was breathtaking and expansive and even before his death he could clearly remember the scattering of stars, the purple and blue toned nebulae drifting about in the infinite blackness. It may have been dark but it was beautiful.

Kind of like Keith.

Yes, Keith was beautiful and he was precious to Shiro. Precious in a way that didn’t deserve the lustful gazes and the indecent thoughts the clone subjected him to. The memories he had of Keith in that brief period of time before he gained a version of his body back were framed in a haze of longing that slowly turned more and more covetous. He still didn’t know what to make of the tender looks exchanged with Keith, the habitual glances at the man’s butt, or the prolonged shoulder touches, purposefully done with his human hand so that he could really feel the muscle of Keith’s bicep. And he _really_ didn’t want to think about the things the clone did to himself at night when merely _looking_ at Keith was no longer enough.

He shuddered as he thought about what could have happened between them had the clone worked up the nerve to make a move. Would Keith have reciprocated? Would he be disgusted with Shiro or grow to hate him? Or worse, would he go along with it just because he thought it was Shiro and back then, he seemed willing to do anything as long as it would make “Shiro” happy?

A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder and he started, forgetting where he was until he saw Allura watching him again.

“Of course this isn’t like before,” she said gently. “Keith is special to you. That much has been clear since the day I met the two of you.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Shiro protested, wringing his hands as Allura looked on with increasing concern. “The clone—I mean this body, it—he—he has these— _thoughts_ —these really dirty thoughts—about _Keith_ —”

He expected Allura’s expression to morph into one of disgust but she surprised him by letting out a peal of laughter.

“ _Quiznak_ , Shiro!” she gasped, wiping a tear from her eye. Her cheeks had darkened noticeably with a blush and although she was still chortling to herself, she was no longer looking him in the eye. “You’re a grown man, why does that surprise you? It’s a perfectly natural, might I even say _healthy_ response to have around a person you—”

But Shiro didn’t hear the rest of her sentence because the comms suddenly hummed to life and a familiar cocky voice patched itself through, loud and clear enough to cut through Shiro’s internal anguish.

“This is James Griffin of the MFE Squadron, hailing the Galaxy Garrison. We are requesting permission to land.”

“Permission granted,” a gruff voice that Shiro recognized as Commander Iverson’s replied. “You’re clear to land.”

There was a dull rumble from the direction of the main hangar but Shiro only perked up when the newest voice joined in the conversation.

“This is Keith of the Voltron Lions. Also requesting permission to land.”

“It’s gonna be a tight squeeze but you’re good to go, Paladins.”

Without thinking, his let his robotic arm float over to a button on the dashboard and with a quick flick of one of the finger units, the multiple screens fizzled and disappeared. Allura stared at him with alarm.

“Shiro, where are you going?”

“MFE Hangar,” he shouted over his shoulder as he ran from the room.

If the MFE jets were landing first, then James was all but guaranteed to try to make a move on Keith as soon as the Black Lion touched the ground.

* * *

He’d sprinted all the way to the hangar but it was in vain. The jet engines had long since cooled down and he was forced to watch, slightly winded and hanging onto the doorway for support, as James gallantly stepped forward to help Keith down from his Lion. He swore under his breath as Keith took James’ hand with a smile ( _that should be Shiro’s hand, damn it_ ) and much as he didn’t want to see any further interaction between the two, he pushed his stupid white forelock away from his eyes and steeled himself for what was to come. Sure enough, with his vision unimpeded, he could make out James, looking sleeker than ever in his flight suit, chatting amicably with Keith, who genuinely seemed to be enjoying the conversation judging by the way he was laughing at something James had said. So when James threw an arm around Keith’s shoulders, Shiro saw red.

 _Are you going to just stand there and watch or are you going to do something about this?_ a tiny voice hissed from somewhere in the back of his head.

Shiro scowled. James was NOT getting Keith. Not today.

Straightening out his uniform and wiping the sweat from his brow, he stood tall and marched forward.

“Keith!”

Keith stopped laughing abruptly and he and James turned, as one, to Shiro, the former looking at him in confusion while the latter stiffened and subtly pulled Keith closer. Keith, he noticed, did not resist and it was this that hurt more than anything he’d seen earlier.

“Shiro? What are you doing here?” Keith asked, tilting his head to the side in a way that was reminiscent of his space wolf. He didn’t move. “I thought you had drills to prepare.”

What was Shiro expecting? For Keith to throw James’ arm off and come running straight into his outstretched arms?

_Maybe. You hoped, right?_

Yeah, he had. But he pushed the nagging voice away and placed a professional smile onto his face.

“I finished early,” he lied, his smile turning stiff.

James’ eyes narrowed in that way that Shiro was fast realizing meant the cadet was onto him. If only Shiro was better at lying.

“Oh!” 

Keith looked genuinely surprised, and dare Shiro hope... happy to hear the news? It would be worth staying up til the wee hours of the morning if he could spend the rest of the evening with Keith. 

Alone.

“That’s great,” the Paladin exclaimed, a sparkle appearing in his eyes, eyes which glowed a brilliant purple in the late-afternoon light. Shiro’s heart stopped.

_He’s so beautiful._

“In that case, how about we all get dinner together?” 

The fingers of Shiro’s robotic arm twitched violently. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw James looking as affronted as Shiro felt.

“Huh?”

“Yeah,” Keith elaborated. “James was telling me about this restaurant out in the nearby city that opened up a few days ago. I mean, it’s not _really_ a restaurant—more like a shack—but they say the alien food served at Vrepit Sal’s is almost perfectly matched to a human palate—Uh, Shiro? Are you okay?”

 _Yes, I’m fine_ , he wanted to say but all that came out was an unintelligible grunt. What little he could see of Keith’s forehead slowly crinkled with worry. Those lovely purple eyes had gone wide and were staring at his prosthetic.

“Then, what’s going on with your arm?”

If the fingers were moving erratically before, they now looked like they were in danger of who-knew-what. The fingers were repeatedly flexing themselves into a fist, the usually soft blue glow of the arm unit flickering on and off, from shining brightly enough to blind people nearby to dimming to the point where nobody was sure whether the unit was still “on” or not. As it started dropping to the ground, 

Shiro quickly grabbed it with his other hand and tucked it behind his back.

“Nothing. You were talking about a restaurant?” he supplied bracingly.

“Yeah... about that,” James interrupted, pulling in Keith so close that their temples were nearly touching. He looked at Shiro like he was an embarrassment and sighed. “I hate to put it this way but it really _is_ just a shack in the desert. And it looks like you’ve got something you need to take care of right now, so tell you what, Keith and I will go check it out first and if it’s really great, we’ll take you with us next time. I mean, you’re a Captain and all right? You should be getting something better than weird alien shack food.”

“ _So your idea of a proper date is to take Keith to some weird alien shack?_ ”

James smirk fell clean off his face and Shiro realized he’d said it aloud.

“Date?”

Keith looked incredulous and he let out a snort.

“What? No, it’s not a date. It’s just getting food,” he laughed. Pushing James’ arm off at last, he approached Shiro and softly laid a hand over his forehead, brushing aside his hair as he did so.

“Hmm...” 

He leaned in, squinting thoughtfully at Shiro and pronounced that the older man _was_ feeling a little warm. He took his hand away and reached around to grab the back of his head, somehow missing the lump that had formed when he fell out of his chair, and pulling until their foreheads were touching.

“You do seem a little warm,” Keith whispered, his eyes sliding closed, eyebrows drawn together in concentration. “Maybe we should take you back to the Medical Bay.”

 _Keith’s lips are_ so _close_.

His breath ghosted over Shiro’s lips and the taller man suddenly found himself struggling to breathe. Then he pulled back, releasing Shiro and put his hand on his hip. His mouth opened.

“I think I can take Shiro to the Medical Bay,” James suddenly offered. 

He strode forward and Shiro did not miss the way he stepped between him and Keith.

“You’re probably tired,” he said sympathetically, waving for a medic, “I think you should just go on ahead back to your room, maybe freshen up before we head out into the city. Don’t worry about Shiro, I can take care of him.”

“I’m _fine_ , Cadet,” Shiro ground out irritably. “I can definitely make it to dinner but to be completely honest with you, I’m not sure if _you_ should be going to this place. Keith and I have had alien food before so we know we’re going to be fine, but I’m not sure how well you’re going to handle it.”

James’ easy-going smile suddenly looked more like a snarl.

“I dunno, the transport I’ve got in mind is a tight squeeze. Someone of your size might not make it in.”

“Funny,” Shiro mused, raising an eyebrow as his dark eyes narrowed. “My old hover bike only has room for two as well.”

“Uh, guys?”

“You know, I really think you should go take a rest,” James insisted, stepping forward so that he was nearly chest to chest with Shiro. “You’ve had a long day, haven’t you?”

“What about you?” Shiro asked, not budging, “Don’t you need to debrief after exercises?”

“Guys!”

Neither of them noticed Keith’s growing alarm. They were too caught up staring each other down.

“Oh, I’m fine,” James replied with a slight twitch that implied maybe he wasn’t. “I’ll just run by after the others have had their turn. If you haven’t noticed, my input’s kind of important so it might take a while.”

“All the more reason you should go join your comrades.” Shiro inclined his head towards the back of the room. “It looks like they’re waiting for you.”

“Guys, that’s _not_ what they’re staring at!” Keith suddenly shouted, pushing them apart. “Shiro, your arm!!”

James’ eyes widened.

“What the--”

There was a sound like a gun going off and an electric shock surged through Shiro’s human hand, forcing him to let go of the prosthetic with a yelp of pain. The arm had grown so hot, he was surprised he had managed to hang onto it for so long and he watched as it hit the ground with a sharp clatter before taking off like a miniature rocket, zooming around the hangar amid panicked screams, blinking erratically and smoking faintly about the wrist. The fingers had somehow twisted themselves into a clenched fist and as it headed back his way, he was hit with the second-worst headache he’d had since receiving the appendage and dropped to his knees, clutching his head.

“Shiro, duck!” Keith shouted, tackling him to the floor and covering both their heads as the flying robotic arm grazed the tops of their heads, singing off a few hairs as Keith pushed his head further into the tarmac.

There was the sound of feet running, some more shouting, somebody screaming for Commander Holt to come to the hangar and then the sound of a gun cocking and powering up.

“I’ve got it!” James yelled, a manic glint in his eye as he aimed an _enormous_ gun around the hangar, which Shiro loosely recognized as the same one he’d used to shoot down Galra scouting probes around the outskirts of town. As the weapon began charging, he was overcome with horror and he scrambled to his feet and pelted towards the young pilot.

“What are you doing?! That thing is hooked up to my brain!” he cried, wrestling the gun out of James’ arms. “Do you have any idea what could happen?”

“Massive damage to Garrison fighters, the Voltron Lions and serious injury to everyone here?” James snapped, “Uh, _yeah!_ Let go of me!”

“No!!”

“Don’t shoot!” someone else shouted and there was a third pair of arms trying to grab at the anti-scout gun. Arms that were covered in blue and white Altean Paladin armor.

“Lance!”

“Seriously, James, let go! You’ll kill us all!” a bespectacled cadet with a long dark ponytail shrieked as she seized him about the waist and began pulling.

“Rizavi, what are you doing? It’s charging!”

“Pidge, have you almost got it?!” Lance hollered over his shoulder, his voice cracking with fear as they watched the nearly fully charged weapon in their hands glow.

“Almost!” she shouted, frantically jabbing at a keyboard with Hunk who seemed to be praying to an unknown deity as he squeezed his eyes shut and held onto two additional heavy-looking screens for her. “Two more seconds!”

“You’ve got one!” Rizavi screamed as pilots Kinkade and Liefsdottir scrambled to clear the hangar alongside Keith, who was rapidly shepherding engineers into the Black Lion. The could hear the rogue arm still shooting about the hangar like a bat out of hell.

“I GOT IT!” Pidge cried, her voice unnaturally high as she slammed her hand on the keyboard.

There was a chugging noise as the tech accepted the command and the arm abruptly stopped glowing. However, the laws of physics were still very much in effect and they watched as the arm slowly lost altitude without losing much of its momentum and crashed noisily into a wall of stacked toolboxes.

Shiro was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when the gun let out a sharp beep—Someone tripped in surprise and all four of the combatants fell with a collective yell, taking the gun with them just as the shot came out of the muzzle and ricocheted into a distant corner of the hangar.

Lance gawped, open-mouthed as the shot hit a faraway all-terrain vehicle and fizzled, leaving a tiny scorch mark on the side of its chassis. No one had been hit. He let out a breath.

“What a relief—”

There was a metallic groan, like some kind of whale was breaching inside the hangar and the vehicle rocked dangerously and collapsed with a low rumble, everyone who wasn’t already on the ground wobbling as the aftershock reverberated throughout the hangar. As the dust settled, they got to their feet, Shiro being helped up by Lance who was looking from him to James with noticeable apprehension.

“What the heck is wrong with you?” Shiro snapped, directing his words at James, who was dusting himself off and looking equally angry and scruffy.

“Me? What about you?” he snarled, breaking free of his teammate and getting in Shiro’s face. “Everything was going just fine until you showed up. If you’d just gone to the Medical Bay to get that thing looked at like we told you to—”

“ _We_?!” Shiro sputtered, incredulous. “I didn’t hear Keith agreeing with you—”

“That’s cuz you didn’t give him a chance to _talk_ —”

“THAT IS ENOUGH!!”

His feet left the ground as someone much bigger and stronger than he was grabbed him and James by the backs of their uniforms and bodily lifted them off the ground as if they were no heavier than a pair of newborn kittens. That someone was wearing pink and white Paladin armor.

“Allura,” he gasped, eyes watering, “When did you—?”

“Keith called me. He said something was wrong with your arm and to get Commander Holt in here in case Pidge couldn’t stop it in time. I _knew_ we should’ve spent more time on diagnostics yesterday but I was sure I’d figured out what was wrong with you.”

He stopped struggling immediately.

“Allura,” he choked out, eyes darting about for Keith. “Please. Don’t—”

“And _you_ —”

She turned to James, eyes flashing.

“What were you thinking? Shooting down tech that none of us is entirely sure how it’s working and possibly hurting your superior officer in the process? How could you?”

“I was just trying to—”

“Trying to what?!” Shiro retorted, as James began looking more and more indignant, his mouth falling open as he pointed a finger at Shiro.

Sensing they were both about to start arguing again, Allura snapped.

“Both of you, shut your _Quiznaks_ THIS INSTANT!” she barked, shaking them violently.

“Okay, okay!” James cried, raising his hands up. “I surrender!”

When Allura turned to Shiro, he just nodded as quickly as he could. Satisfied, she breathed out and dropped them both, shrinking back down to her normal size and eyeing them critically as they gasped for breath.

“I cannot believe this. You, a pair of grown men, scuffling like a couple of schoolboys at the end of a military exercise and nearly hurting a _lot_ of people in the process. Did either of you think about how this would make Keith feel?”

Lance and Rizavi exchanged a suspicious glance.

“Keith?” she asked, adjusting her glasses, “What’s he got to do with—”

“I think you both need something to occupy your time with so that you don’t both go getting lost in your own heads.”

“I agree,” someone spoke up and they all jumped into salute as Commanders Iverson and Holt came forward, each looking sterner than the other. Iverson regarded them with a squint, the disdain evident in even his damaged eye. 

“Cadet Griffin, I’m assigning you to wash the all-terrain vehicle you just damaged. Cadet Rizavi, I want you to drive it over. None of you are to help. Is that clear?”

James grimaced.

“Yes, sir.”

And as Rizavi jogged towards the far end of the hanger, throwing a cautious look over her shoulder, Commander Holt turned to Shiro.

“Shiro, I’m really getting concerned about you. It’s clear that something is eating at you when you’re alone to the point where you’re not sleeping well and as the day drags on, you seem to be less and less able to pull yourself together. I’m afraid this is coming with me.” He tapped the metal appendage that Pidge had retrieved and dropped into his arms. “And I’m afraid you’re going to be on desk duty until this is all sorted out. Understand?”

Shiro sighed.

“Yes, sir.”

And out of the corner of his eye, he thought he caught Allura whispering to Keith as they exited the hangar with the other Paladins. He caught one, last worried glance just before the doors slid shut.

Keith had not been smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I actually wrote a lot this last couple weeks but they're all out of order. Hope you stick around for the rest!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Shiro confront their worst fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, uh, don't know how to write crack. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry this chap was so long. I couldn't find a good place to split it.

A couple hours later, Shiro was once again holed up in the command center, sans prosthetic, chained to his desk. There would’ve been a physical chain attached to his leg, had an absolutely livid Allura had her say but somehow Lance calmed her down enough to allow for Shiro to be spared further humiliation; the top brass had gone with locking him in the room instead, no visitors. He propped his hand up on his desk and sighed glumly.

There was no need to bother with all this. Keith was never going to talk to him again after what happened and that was punishment enough.

_Face it, Shiro, we fucked up._

As he turned to the window, where just outside, the moon was peeking through the tattered clouds, the light fell upon his face and threw his reflection against the dark glass. In the light of the full moon, his eyes appeared to glow a feral yellow, the darkness overlaying his features dyeing his hair black once again and he was met with a vision he hadn’t seen since his first disastrous encounter with Sendak.

“You!”

He stood and his chair hit the floor with a clatter.

His reflection stared back and he was face to face with his clone yet again. He scowled and the clone did the same.

“This is all _your_ fault!”

The clone snarled back, his eyes flashing, tossing the words right back at him.

“Mine?!” Shiro exclaimed, taking a step back. He clutched at his chest, the blood pounding in his veins as he wrinkled a fistful of uniform just over his rapidly beating heart. “I’m not the one who was thinking those dirty thoughts about Keith!”

_But you acknowledged those thoughts, didn’t you?_

He faltered.

 _“Right. Because I’m sure piloting is all you’ve got in mind when you see him,”_ James’ voice seemed to echo in the space around him.

The clone looked at him sadly and Shiro groaned.

“Alright, fine. He’s grown since he left with Krolia. Really... grown. He’s become a fine man.”

_With a fine body._

Shiro flushed as the memories came flooding back. Keith contacting the Castle of Lions, speaking with “Shiro” directly, looking into _his_ eyes and no one else’s after having nearly no contact with the outside world for over two years. Keith stepping out of the Altean pod and pushing brusquely past an indignant Lance, heading straight for “Shiro” with indigo eyes blazing. Keith, who fought like hell to save him when Haggar took control. Keith, who was always the first person Shiro saw when he woke up after returning from some life-threatening injury.

It had been Keith he’d seen first when the clone had finally found the Lions. Keith whose eyes brimmed with silent tears of joy when “he” finally woke up again hours later aboard the Castle of Lions in the young Paladin’s room. Keith, who held him close, gripping him with a fervor as if he was terrified Shiro would slip away again when he woke up for the last time in that leftover healing pod. And if he recalled correctly, the sharp jawline and fluffy dark hair that had swam into focus before anything else when he’d first returned to Earth after a year in Galra captivity was also Keith.

It had always been Keith.

Always.

“As many times as it takes,” Keith had lovingly whispered as he tucked “Shiro” into bed, his lashes lowered and his smile sweet as he reached to turn off the light and allow “Shiro” some much needed rest.  
Shiro fell to his knees.

How could he _not_ have fallen in love with the man?

_You should tell him how you really feel._

“He said I was his brother,” Shiro whispered hoarsely, to which the clone shook his head as he sat on the floor beside Shiro.

_Only because you kept him at arms’ length for far too long._

Shiro pressed his forehead against the window, the coldness of the night air seeping through the glass. He closed his eyes and breathed in.

A soft knock came at the door, startling him.

“Shiro? Are you alright?” a soft, faintly accented feminine voice called. She sounded sheepish. “May I come in?”

He was about to nod when he realized she couldn’t see him.

“Come in!” he called out and a grateful-looking Allura stepped into the room, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. She squinted at him, sitting on the floor next to his reflection and frowned.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked hesitantly, her brows wrinkling.

“I’m fine. Just wanted a change in scenery.” Shiro said, gesturing to the blackness beyond the window. His reflection stared back, white hair and missing arm prominent. He waved at the blue screen present on the table, which lit up at once. 

“You can tell Commander Iverson I’m all done.”

“Actually, that’s not what I came for,” Allura admitted, twirling the curl tighter and tighter about her finger. “I wanted to apologize, for treating you both so roughly earlier. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It was... unbecoming of me.”

“No, I should be the one apologizing, Allura. You were right.” His lips turned upwards in a weak smile. “I’m sorry I was acting like a kid. I think I should just go talk to him.”

The change in Allura’s expression was instant; she brightened up immediately.

“You’ll talk to Keith?” she exclaimed. “That’s wonderful! Oh, I’m so glad I brought this.”

And as Shiro watched, she whipped out the prosthetic she’d been hiding behind her back with a smile. 

“I told Commander Holt that I was pretty sure of what the problem was, that if you just kept a cool head it shouldn’t malfunction again. No, I didn’t tell him about Keith,” she elaborated as the blood drained out of Shiro’s face. “I figured if anyone was going to mention it, it would have to be you. So, good luck Shiro! You can have this back and use it as soon as you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Allura.”

She beamed at him and offered him the arm but as he took it back, his expression was grim.

“Actually... I think I’ll start by talking to James Griffin.”

* * *

The sodden rag hit the all-terrain vehicle with a sharp slap, dirty liquid and grease flying all over the place and James swore under his breath as blackened droplets hit him in the face.

Stupid Shiro. Couldn’t even get his shit together for five fucking minutes and now James was stuck with the damage. Desk duty? What a laugh. Here he was, wiping down this gigantic monstrosity of a vehicle while the _Captain_ was under glorified house arrest, probably sulking and mooning about his crush like some pathetic knight under his lady’s balcony.

All the more reason why he didn’t deserve Keith.

“So let me get this straight,” Rizavi deadpanned. “You’re telling me that you’ve been hitting on Keith for the last few days or weeks or whatever... because he suddenly came back hot? ...Really?”

James wiped the grease from his face, smudging a streak of black across his nose and shrugged.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Although the MFE fighter pilots had been banned from helping him, there were no rules against coming over to socialize and so about three hours after James had started cleaning the all-terrain vehicle he had damaged, they’d arrived, sans uniform to check in on him. Upon figuring out he was doing okay and in fact, nearly done, Liefsdottir and Kinkade had plopped down onto nearby crates to play mobile games on their devices while Rizavi, an inquisitive gleam in her eye, had set straight to interrogating James as he crouched by the hubcaps, polishing them with an increasingly dirty rag as he dodged her questions. He was hoping to satisfy her curiosity as quickly as possible but she did not seem to find his answers satisfactory. Instead of abating, her questioning intensified.

“You know, if you’re in need of a good time, there are plenty of good-looking cadets wandering the halls who would _kill_ for a night with you,” she continued suspiciously. “Why Keith? I thought you guys didn’t get along?”

“We’ve made some strides,” James answered honestly, without looking her in the face. “We all went to check up on Hunk’s parents together, didn’t we? And we took down that giant monster at the end together right? Why are you so surprised I’d be interested in him? You said so yourself, he’s definitely a looker.”

Rizavi wrinkled her nose.

“If you say so. I’m not exactly into dudes, so I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Into dudes or not, if she’d seen Keith in just his black body suit, sans armor, she wouldn’t be saying that. And there was something about his smile lately, or maybe it was the way he blushed so furiously whenever James was aggressively flirty... He’d stopped polishing the hubcap he was working on and unfortunately for him, Rizavi had noticed before he had. Her lips had twisted into a smirk and she squatted down next to him so she could try to get a better look at his face. He refused to look at her.

“So why don’t you just ask him if he’d be interested in some fun and stop teasing the poor thing? You know Keith isn’t exactly the best at reading signals. Not to mention...”

Her gaze intensified and so James resumed working.

“Do you really think it’s right to try to steal Keith out from under Shiro’s nose like that? I mean, he used to be your hero. Don’t you think the poor guy’s been through enough?”

“If he _really_ wanted Keith, he would’ve made a move by now,” James explained. “They’ve had a few years in a space together, haven’t they? Besides, he’s a grown man. He should understand that if he wasn’t gonna make a move, then someone would, right?”

“Sure, sure but I still think that you should’ve tried going for both of them. You win one over, you get the other. You know how much history those two have, wouldn’t this make it easier? To be honest for you, I used to think you had a thing for _Shiro_ back in the day. I know Keith certainly did.”

“I’m not interested in Shiro,” James deadpanned, flinging water at her, making her scowl. “He’s a little too beefy for me. I like guys who look a little slimmer. Keith’s just my type now.”

“Okay, but I keep telling you, most love triangles can be solved with a threesome,” Rizavi sang, twirling a strand of her long, dark ponytail around her finger as she headed back to her companions.

“Not everyone is poly, Rizavi.”

“Hey, don’t knock it before you’ve tried it,” she replied flirtatiously, draping an arm around Leifsdottir’s shoulder and winking suggestively.

James rolled his eyes.

“So you think I should share Keith with someone else? Yeah, no thanks. I want those pretty eyes to stay on me and only me.”

He dropped his rag back into the bucket with a loud splash and straightened up to see both Rizavi and Leifsdottir staring at him open-mouthed with astonishment. And that’s when he realized he’d said it aloud.

“Wait. It’s not what you think--”

“What’s not what I think?” Rizavi asked, the all-too-gleeful sparkle in her eye betraying her attempt at innocence. “If I didn’t know any better...”

What was this feeling, like something constricting in his throat? This sudden, overwhelming urge to jump into his MFE fighter, start the micropulse boosters and fly as far away from Nadia Rizavi and her keen brown eyes as possible? As he swallowed the knot in his windpipe, he suddenly had a name for it: panic.

Throwing all caution to the wind, he turned his back, grabbed the bucket and speed-walked to the other side of the enormous all-terrain vehicle, Rizavi trailing him like an excited puppy.

“If I didn’t know any better,” she repeated, her smile growing so wide, he could literally hear the effect it had on her voice, “I’d say you’re mad because you _actually have feelings for Keith._ Beyond wanting to get into his pants.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped, turning away from her yet again as she tried to cut him off, peering around him to look at his face.

“Oh, I think _you do_. When I asked you about this earlier, you just laughed and said you wanted to fuck him—Hey, don’t make that face! Your words, buddy, not mine. You acted like it was all just some big game, screwing with Shiro’s head and maybe actually screwing Keith--”

He was walking fast enough for it to count as a near jog now, the murky water sloshing around dangerously in the bucket, spilling over the sides and leaving puddles all over the tarmac, which Rizavi nimbly dodged as she cheerfully pranced around him.

“But it’s not like that any more, is it? You _really like_ him! Keith’s rockin’ hot bod--”

“Please don’t ever say that again.”

“--is not enough for you, is it? You want his heart too! Tell me it’s not true, I dare you.”

“Would you just shut it?!” he shouted, throwing his bucket to the ground.

His words rang around the hangar like a thunderclap, the bellow of a wounded beast magnified a thousandfold as the hollow bucket rolled around on the floor. He was breathing hard, sweat running down his temple, his shoes soaked in cleaning liquid. Not exactly the picture of calm and composed but he wouldn’t be James Griffin if he didn’t at least make an attempt at talking to them. Rizavi was wrong. She had to be. He sat the bucket upright and smoothed out his hair as he faced Leifsdottir and Kinkade, who were eyeing him with a very appropriate amount of wariness.

“Guys, I can explain.”

Kinkade sighed and folded his arms, his face as serious and expressionless as usual.

“James, we know.”

His ears must not have been working correctly because he thought he just heard Kinkade agree with Rizavi. He watched, slack-jawed, as his most stoic teammate fixed Rizavi with a pointed look and continued, “And _you_ know we’ve known this for ages. Stop teasing him already.”

“But it’s so much fun,” she whined.

“Hold on a second,” James sputtered, kicking over the bucket by mistake again as he stumbled towards Kinkade. “You think I have a crush on Keith? You _all_ think this?”

But his fellow pilot’s only response was to look at him with something resembling pity.

And before he could open his mouth to respond, a new voice broke the silence.

“Excuse me.”

It was as if his words had cast a spell. As one, the MFE pilots turned to the far wall, where the pale, metallic entryway doors silently parted to let in a tall, white-haired man, his floating robotic arm hovering beside him like a ghostly lantern, illuminating his path to them in a wash of blue light.

“Captain!” Rizavi gasped. 

All four pilots immediately jumped into a salute, James very conscious and very bitter about the state of disarray his rival had to have found him in. There was a very obvious brown grease stain on the front of his jacket and so he stood a little taller and kept his gaze defiant, hoping the force of his glare might be enough to detract from his overall appearance.

“At ease, guys.” 

They dropped their arms, James a little slower than the rest and he found his eyes being drawn to the others in a futile attempt to exchange a glance. Somewhere in that pleasant, professional tone was an undercurrent of unrest and as his eyes traveled back to Shiro, he noticed a distinct slouch in his posture, the agitation in his mind showing in his inability to meet James’ eyes. When eyes met at last, Shiro let out a sigh that had a distinct air of resignation.

“Could I have a word with Cadet Griffin? In private, please?”

James’ companions exchanged a brief glance and turned to him, the unease written so clearly across their faces that even James could feel a knot forming in his stomach. So for their sake as much as his own, he forced a confident grin and answered, miraculously sounding more sure of himself than he felt.

“Of course, Captain.” 

He turned to face the others and inclined his head meaningfully, wordlessly urging them to be on their way. But they didn’t move. Instead, all three stood their ground, Kinkade standing with his back a little straighter, as if prepared to challenge Shiro all on his own while Rizavi and Leifsdottir edged a little closer to James, their protective scowls as fierce as any expression they had ever worn in battle. Seeing this, James felt a sudden rush of pride and gratitude. Despite all their mockeries and jokes earlier, there really was no question about how they felt about their teammate. Shiro must’ve noticed as well because he quickly relaxed his stance and allowed a pleasant smile to grace his features.

“Don’t worry, he’s not in trouble. I just need to talk to him for a minute.”

Exchanging one last glance with James, the three cadets finally relaxed.

“Don’t take too long okay?” Rizavi half-joked. “He still has a quarter of a military vehicle to clean.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

And as the three scampered off, Leifsdottir shooting one last calculating glance over her shoulder at the two of them as she departed, James turned to Shiro with a slight frown.

“So, what’s going on, Captain?”

“You don’t have to call me Captain right now. Just ‘Shiro’ is fine.”

James’ eyebrows crinkled together in confusion.

“Okay, Shiro.” He leaned back into a more carefree stance, arms crossed casually in front of the stain on his chest. “What’s going on? Did you need to ask me something about the exercises tomorrow? Maybe see how the cleaning is going? Because I’m not quite done with it yet but if you wanted me to bring over an engineer to check something over, I could ask someone to run diagnostics--”

“I didn’t come here to ask you about the vehicle.”

Shiro sighed. Wearily. And as he watched Shiro’s shoulders slouch forward, James felt something heavy drop into his stomach, a hollow echo of his instinct to flee when Rizavi had confronted him earlier.

“Then, what did you want to talk about?”

As the question filled the space around them, Shiro grew quiet. Very quiet. He suddenly looked rather sheepish and instead of becoming emboldened by this observation, James was instead filled with a sense of dread. It would’ve looked awkward enough coming from anyone else but the fact that this was _Shiro_ made it seem even more disturbing than it could’ve been. The fact that it was the floating arm that was disembodiedly scratching Shiro’s head didn’t help. So when the man opened his mouth at last to speak, James was once again fighting the unfamiliar urge to run.

“I wanted to ask you... What is Keith to you?”

Even though it felt like his very bones were itching in his frame, James calmly shrugged. He reached for his bucket, now completely empty of greasy water and hauled it to a nearby hose to refill it. Shiro made no move to stop him.

“A friend, a fellow pilot. Former rival. You know.”

Shiro’s sigh sounded more like a growl of frustration. He tapped a foot against the ground, his boot clicking menacingly against the tarmac.

“No, I don’t know. Could you fill me in?”

“Well, let’s see. We went to school together,” James said, plucking out the sodden rag and wringing it out noisily. “Been going to school together since we were in sixth grade I believe? And when we both enrolled at the Garrison, we kind of naturally became rivals. One day, you disappeared. Then he disappeared. Then Commander Holt showed up, then the Galra, then the two of you and now we’re fighting an intergalactic war on the same side. Given everything that’s happened, I thought we should try to mend our old wounds so I figured I should try talking with Keith more and actually becoming his friend rather than just taking things out on him all the time. Does that just about cover it?”

He’d dodged the question and he knew it and Shiro knew it. Not to be deterred, the older man stepped forward, just a few feet away from James’ personal space and tried again.

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

“Then what _are_ you asking?”

“I think you know, James.”

 _“You actually have feelings for Keith,”_ the memory of Rizavi’s voice taunted him.

Despite how cold it was in the hanger, he could feel more sweat beading on his brow. The collar of his cadet uniform suddenly felt like it was strangling him. Shiro seemed to know the answer already but James was not yet prepared to yield.

“Oh, you’re talking about _that_.” 

His laugh was too little shaky for his own liking.

“Yeah, alright. I’ve been flirting with Keith and I will probably keep flirting with him because, let’s be honest here, he’s pretty hot. He’s got a nice ass in that armor of his and I want to get in those pants. Was that what you were looking for?”

As expected, Shiro’s gaze darkened, a trace of the man said to have survived those alien gladiator arenas coming to the surface and James crossed his arms, bracing for impact even as he bared his teeth in a smile that was more warning than challenge. But as Shiro’s dark gray eyes met his, his expression suddenly softened and James was left staring at a man who looked more sympathetic than angry. The young pilot swallowed and without being fully able to process what he was doing, he took one faltering step back.

“Is that really all?” Shiro asked quietly, scanning James’ face.

He took another step back.

“Yeah. Yeah it is.”

_I don’t have feelings for him. I don’t have feelings for him. I just want his body. Just tell him the truth and you’ll be fine._

Shiro took a step forward, his gaze probing.

“You’re saying... you’re only interested in his body?”

Good Lord, why did he have to sound so broken when he said that? As if the idea of anybody wanting anything less than all of that lean, perfect, beautiful, fiery package that was Keith Kogane was physically hurting him?

James swallowed. His throat was suddenly, horribly dry. He tried to answer but he couldn’t. He could only continue to retreat one step at a time as Shiro gained traction.

“Why would you do this? To Keith?”

His boot scuffed against rubber and he realized his back was against the massive all-terrain vehicle. He scrambled to keep his back straight but he could feel his facade slipping as Shiro’s robotic arm shot out and struck the matte metal door, just inches away from James’ left earlobe. He towered over the young cadet.

“Don’t you think he deserves better than that?” he whispered, his tone mournful. He sounded like he was begging and it was this revelation that finally broke James.

“YES!!”

His palms shot out, bodily pushing Shiro away with enough force that the bigger man actually stumbled. James’ voice shook as he spoke but the floodgates were bursting open and there was no stopping him any longer.

“Yes, he deserves better than that! He deserves someone who wants him, body AND soul because he’s amazing—! He’s beautiful and talented and he deserves everything this universe has to offer and more and yes, I want him and _yes_ , I want to be the one to give him the things he deserves. You happy now?”

He thumped his chest right over his grease-stain, wincing at the harder-than-intended impact but he had made his point. He stood tall and waited for Shiro’s response.

Surprisingly, Shiro looked relatively unfazed by James’ outburst. He blinked a couple times, then frowned.

“Then why would you say that you only wanted him for his body?” he asked, looking more confused than anything else.

James groaned.

“Because I got sick of watching you pine over him in the mess hall every morning. EVERY MORNING. The famed Captain of the Atlas, reduced to some some slack-jawed mess, unable to string two words together, much less a whole love confession, too busy being an _absolute disaster_ to properly tell him how much you really care!”

Shiro’s frown deepened into a full scowl and his thick brows were knitting themselves together into an obvious look of displeasure but James didn’t let that stop him from displaying the full extent of the exasperation he had been holding back for over a month. He crossed his arms, marched up to Shiro and turned upon his superior officer the most defiant look he could muster.

“Look, _you_ were clearly too chickenshit to make a move so _someone_ had to show you how it’s done! And if I get Keith in the end, it’s because I actually _tried,_ ” he ground out through clenched teeth. 

He wished he had a mic to drop but it looked like Shiro had gotten the point. There were storm clouds gathering in those dark gray eyes and James wouldn’t be surprised if a bolt of lightning struck out and killed him on the spot. Still he didn’t move.

“Heh.” Shiro raised one eyebrow appraisingly. “You’ve got guts, Cadet. I gotta say, I can see why you like Keith so much. You really are kind of similar.”

James allowed himself a grin that probably looked more like a snarl.

“Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

They stared at each other, neither one willing to back down. Then, Shiro scratched his chin.

“Alright then. Now that you’ve told me how you really feel, I’m going to be treating you as a serious rival. I won’t ask you to back down but I’m not going to give up either. Keith and I have a long history together and he means a lot to me. And if you think for one second I’m going to just step back and let you have him, you’ve got another thing coming.”

James raised an eyebrow as well, mirroring Shiro’s expression. His grin turned into a smirk.

“So what are we doing then? Setting down the rules of engagement? They say all’s fair in love and war, so why don’t we just leave it at that?”

“Because I believe we should let Keith choose who’s best for him and it wouldn’t be fair to him if we didn’t at least give him an honest idea of who we are and what we can bring to a relationship.”

 _Ugh, such a boy scout._ But James couldn’t disagree with his logic.

“What are your terms?”

“First rule: no sabotage. Keith should see both of us at our best, maybe our worst if we let him. But between my clone trying to kill him and you insulting his parents several years ago, I’d say we already have that covered.”

James made a noncommittal noise of assent.

“I won’t feel at peace unless I’ve won Keith’s heart fair and square,” Shiro said, “And if you feel the same way about him as I do, then you understand.”

He was right. James wanted to spit.

“Sure thing, Cap,” he quipped. “Second rule: no pulling rank to get extra time with him. That goes for both of us.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes and the scar seemed to expand.

“Third rule,” Shiro decided, “No spending a large amount of money on him. He doesn’t like that.”

“Oh, I _know_ he doesn’t. Don’t worry about that. Fourth rule: no damaging Garrison equipment. I get we both might want to show off a little but if anything happens to an important piece of equipment, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Fifth rule: no hurting anybody around us. I know this goes without saying but given how you tried to shoot down my arm, I’m not taking any chances.”

“That’s fair. Sixth rule: no fighting in front of him. I think that hurts both our chances more than it helps, don’t you?”

“Sure.”

There was a pause as they sized each other up, each of their minds whirring with the possibilities of additional rules. When none were proposed, James spoke up.

“So how do we decide on the winner? Is he gonna hand out roses?”

Shiro rubbed his chin with his flesh-and-blood hand, his eyebrows knitting tightly together as he thought carefully about his response. James knew he’d arrived at the answer at last when the man’s ears gradually flushed red and his smile turned wobbly.

“First person to get a kiss, a voluntary one that _Keith_ initiates, wins.”

James deflated.

“Aw come on, are you serious?” he groaned. “That’ll take forever! You know how he is--”

Shiro suddenly leaned in, looking terrifyingly fierce.

“Would you do something to him without his permission?”

James faltered.

“No,” he admitted truthfully, “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Good. Any more rules?”

“None that I can think of.”

“Then we have a deal.”

He stuck out his hand, the metallic one, which James squeezed like he was trying to crush a can. He hoped Shiro could feel his resolve through the prosthetic and he flashed his opponent a grin that was all teeth, his canines glinting in the blue light of the tech.

“May the best man win.”

Neither of them said it, but each was thinking the same thing:

 _I intend to_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it!! Thanks for reading this dumpster fire fic. See you next week! OTL


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